The Queer Side of Things.
"THE RETALIATOR."
had often wondered how public men felt on opening their comic paper and seeing some atrocious caricature of themselves, and my curiosity, gathering force as time passed, at length oppressed me to such an extent as to render me incapable of other thoughts length, after a sleepless night, I determined to satisfy, if possible, that devouring curiosity. At five a.m. I came to the decision to go and ask the public men; and, the decision once arrived at, my eagerness was such that, after another hour of intense longing, I dressed myself hurriedly and went out to make my first call.
"Reposing on the root of a tree."
I have intentionally suppressed all names in the following report, being anxious to avoid wounding any susceptibilities; and an impenetrable veil of disguise is therefore thrown the identity of those of whom over there is occasion to treat. My first act was to take the train for North Wales, in order to effect an interview with Mr. G— whom I had the good fortune to find reposing upon the root of a tree, an axe by his side. While I tendered my question he fixed upon me a severe yet attentive eye; then, while a harrowing expression of profound and over-powering mental pain too potent for words passed over his face, he replied:
"You ask how we feel. While disclaiming all authority to express or delineate, and indeed any sort of warrant or justification in expressing or delineating, the mental and moral sensations or experiences of others under the circumstances to which you so pointedly and unequivocally refer in your inquiry, I may tell you that (although I usually conceal my emotion behind that dignified reserve so essential to the decorous conduct and development of a political career), that I feel that mad with 'em that I could—" and his hand wandered significantly to the axe. "What I hate," he said, warming to his subject, "what I hate is to be represented with wide trousers as stiff as boards, and with an enormous nose perpetually in the air; though I'm not sure that I have any less aversion to being always drawn with very narrow trousers covered with angular creases over the boots, which are horribly wrinkled, and invariably turned out as in the fifth position; and my arms fixed (as
